Get in my BELLY

A new General Store, trendy sandwich shop has opened up in the Virginia Highlands. It is called BELLY.Having driven past it several times, I decided to go in today with my digital camera to survey the place.The place is definitely Virginia Highlands chic: ethereal funk music playing; candles burning; spotted light on exposed brick. The employees all had decidedly funky haircuts: many with bleached blonde hair. The goods offered are eclectic–various types of dried-out chilis; vinegars; and unusual cookbooks (one, I think, was called “Crazy Chickens” with pictures of crazy chickens).Everything there looked fresh and new. A cheese counter looked good enough to lick. I proceeded to lick it, only to have an employee inform me that the cheese counter was not for licking.In any case, I was hungry and I wanted a sandwich. I read the sandwich menu carefully. Nothing stuck out at me as something I HAD to have, so I went with the panini because I don’t eat much panini in Atlanta. I chose the mozzarella, tomato and basil panini. I also ordered an orange cream soda.What I didn’t like was that when he rung me up with a credit card, there was a line for tip. Why should I tip someone at a counter? He’s not a waiter. I have to carry my own food. Sometimes I’ll feel pressured and give a tip anyway. Today I felt vengeful, and left the line blank. The guy gave me a dirty look.Soon, my sandwich came out and I saw it sitting up on the counter. I was sitting alone at the table. Was the guy going to bring it to me? Was he mad that I didn’t give him a tip?I gave him a look that said: “Umm, I know that my sandwich is up there, why aren’t you giving it to me?He feigned distraction.I scudded my seat back noisily and stomped up to the counter, swooping the sandwich up myself.”Sir, that’s not yours,” said the man nicely.”Oh,” I said.Soon, though, my sandwich appeared. Here is a picture:It came with a devilled egg (a strange touch!) and a bunch of tiny pickles. I took a bite of the sandwich first:The textures all went well together, but the sandwich suffered from a severe lack of flavor. Perhaps that is the bain of mozzarella sandwiches: they need something to perk them up or they fall flat. Mozzarella isn’t very flavorful in and of itself. It acts as a vehicle for other condiments: tomato sauce; vinegar; wasabi. (Ok, maybe not the last). And this sandwich just tasted like bready, gooey air.Perhaps it was the pesto (a basil replacement, I suppose) that was the true criminal here. Pesto is a great opportunity for flavor. You can add garlic to it and salt. And I think it’s the latter that felt most absent. The pesto (and hence the sandwich) was underseasoned. So was the devilled egg. The only flavor I really got at lunch was from the pickles and the cream soda.Yet, Belly seems promising. Eager to please. And I very well might have picked a loser: I’ve never really met a mozzarella panini sandwich that I liked. (Although, admittedly, I don’t think I’ve had very many). Surely, I’ll go back to soak in the aesthetic and try something new. And maybe next time I’ll tip the counter guy.